A Different Panem
by fedora wind
Summary: No one ever comes back. Every year, two children from each district are reaped and taken towards the Capitol to an unknown fate. What awaits Katniss in this different Panem?
1. Chapter 1

Hello people, I'm sure of what you'll say, another story? You haven't even finished the reapings in your SYOT! So what? This came out of the blue, and I liked the idea. This is basically what could've become of Panem had it taken a different, more psychological route, I have really traumatic ideas for this, to the point I'm amazed with myself...I've seriously got issues, and I think it shows with this. I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed and told me what you think of this strange idea of mine. :D

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This was yet another year I was eligible for the reapings, and it scared me to no end. Why? You ask? Simple, no one who left on those trains ever came back, absolutely no one, and no word of them ever reached those left behind. It is not for nothing those who were reaped tried, emphasis on tried, to escape the clutches of the Capitol, but failed horribly, they still went towards their unknown fate, with one limb less or without being able to talk.

I'd seen it happen once. How they took a redheaded girl away in one of their hovercrafts, many years ago, back when my father had yet to be executed publicly for "rebellious acts against the law", he had just been hunting in the woods, trying his best to feed our family, and the girl... she had simply been running, trying her best to escape. The last I saw of her were her pleading eyes, staring at me for not being able to do anything to help her, because if I did, I would probably be taken, too. And, no matter what happens, that is the first rule in every district.

Don't do anything against the law of the Capitol, don't give them any more reason to take you away or kill you. They are just waiting, watching you, and carefully biding their time to take you towards that fate no one knew about, except them.

Even so, knowing what awaits me if I'm caught; I continue to break one of their many laws daily. I hunt. This is the only way a sixteen year old girl can support her family without losing her dignity. That is how awful the world that we live in is, that is what the Capitol has degraded us to. To mere figures waiting to be tackled by something greater than ourselves, no matter how many of us come together to try to change this... this wasteland we live in, we will always be brought down. We've got nothing compared to what they have. They have technology, they have soldiers, but moreover, they have those who support them and aid them.

They also have these monsters. Monsters that walk on two feet, who have thumbs just like we do, but whose faces are so distorted you can't really see where their mouth our eyes are, or if they even have them to begin with. Who are so big and tall that not even twenty grown men can hope to be able to bring down, no matter how hard they try. Most of us, call them mutts. We who cower in fear when they come down the streets after curfew, searching for anyone that is not inside their home, who does not have a home to begin with and is just a waste of space in the eyes of the Capitol. If I hadn't learned to hunt, my sister and I would be among those who disappear every night, that all citizens who make it through the night whisper on the day after their disappearance, and conveniently forget about the night after, in which more will fade away into the blackness. Many believe the mutts eat them, others say that they are taken to the Capitol, but most of us just like to say they have faded away as they had been doing the days before they disappeared.

All of this went through my head as my mother, sister and I shared breakfast in our small, cramped one-room home. We lived in one of those building complexes surrounded by electric fences, the doors of which closed around 8 pm sharp, and opened at 6 am, just in time for the mine workers to leave towards the deadly place where their job was, where they were more likely to die on any given day than come out without injury. My mother looks more worried than usual, and then I remember. Today was Prim's first reaping ever. Silently, in mind, even though I believe in no other worldly creature that looks over us, I pray that Prim does not get reaped, for her not to have such a terrible fate looming over her.

Having finished our breakfast and cleaning what little there is to clean, we head towards the town square, where the reapings have taken place since 74 years ago, were 146 children have been reaped from our district, and two others would join them wherever they had gone. The mayor took his place in the podium, his face sweaty and nervous, with what looked like more than fifty peacekeepers standing behind him, and many others strewn all over the plaza, herding all children between twelve and eighteen years of age into pens located all round the podium, with only one visible entrance and exit once they were closed. That exit lead directly to the podium, and the path leading there was lined with peacekeepers in every single one of them. It was truly terrifying, even after four years of going through this experience, with knowledge that my name was entered more than one time, unlike Prim's who I've made sure was only entered once, and that the name would never enter more times than what was necessary.

Before being herded away by a peacekeeper, I give Prim's hand a squeeze, hoping it will make her feel better. "Don't worry okay? Everything will be just fine..." It's then I let go of her and give my mother one last look, and, like every other year, she is about to cry. I know she's tried hard since my father died, but it never seems to be enough, not even close to enough, I will never forgive her for leaving us to fate for those months in which we starved, and almost were mutted away one night, which we only survived because of a kind baker who gave us shelter and food.

The mayor stopped talking and gave the microphone away to the Head Peacekeeper, who would announce the names of those being reaped with a cold, strong voice that showed how insensible he is to this whole situation the people of the districts go through every year. "The 74th reapings, that were scheduled as soon as the Dark Days ended, and the Light came to you, the districts, and stopped the war taking place. This is but a reminder of what the districts attempted to do against us, the almighty Capitol, who see it all, hear it all, and control it all, we shall once again take two of your children to be groomed as the perfect humans we hope will one day take your places and make this world anew." His eyes, cold and without emotion, showed no mercy as he called two names. "Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, you have been selected as a part of our reaping program, please, feel proud to be among the many who have this honor." My eyes widened in shock, and I fell to the floor as one of the peacekeepers took me towards the stage, but once I stood up, I could see a commotion happening.

There was a young, blond man threading his way throughout the crowd, trying to reach the other unfortunate soul who like me, is about to be shipped towards the Capitol. "Peeta!" From where I now stand I can see that many others with similar looks to him try to stop him, and failing, as he rips himself free of their embraces and hits a peacekeeper.

Bang.

"No, please, no! This can't be happening!" I watch as the crowd steps aside, trying their best to remove blood from their clothes, and avoiding the blood that now runs freely through the floor, making a huge, red puddle that stands out among the black and grey mass that is the crowd. Next to me, stands the Head Peacekeeper, holding a gun in his hand, face emotionless and without remorse. On my other side, is Peeta Mellark, the baker's son, crying and screaming for his now dead brother, who lay on the floor with his weeping mother and father beside him. There are two peacekeepers holding him back as tears and screams of rage escape him.

But even then, as all of those events happen, I just stand there, indifferent, in shock, not knowing what to do. Then I notice. I've been crying since the gunshot rang through my ears, something in me knowing someone would die by that bullet. I'm terrified. I feel as if it were my father's execution all over again, with all three of us, my mother, Prim and I crying, while everyone else just watched, some wanting to help, but not wanting to risk it, and others just walking by, indifferent. This feels just like back then, with everything happening so fast, but registering at such a slow speed in my brain, that I can only stand there eyes open, tears running through them.

I then hear many other gunshots. I see as several more people fall to their deaths because of bullets, but as they continue to ring through my ears, I feel something enter my arm and I fall, my limbs turning into gelatin, disregarding my state of mind.

The last thing I see, is the crowd heading towards the streets that lead out of the plaza, hoping that Prim and my mother get out safely. The last thing I hear, are screams of fear from the townspeople who have done nothing wrong or anything to deserve this. The last thing that escapes my mouth is but a small cry as it all dawns on me, and pain shots straight through my arm.

But the last thing I think about, is my fate, of which I know nothing of, and as darkness engulfs me, I simply cry on the floor, hoping someone, or something, could save me from what will come.

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Weird? Strange? Makes sense? Traumatizing? Review?

Tell me if I should continue with this, I've got loads of ideas, but top priority is the SYOT right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**To xoStillAnInnocent, Let The Foxx Fly, and PeetaMellark'sKatniss: **Thank you very much for the feedback guys, I really appreciate it, so just for you, here's the next chapter of A Different Panem.

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When I wake up, the only thing I hear is the screech of metal against metal, and the noise of windows rattling because of the wind, even if the sounds are somewhat familiar, I refuse to open my eyes, afraid of what I could see. You never know with the Capitol.

However, much to my surprise, someone speaks to me, and I instantly feel my muscles tense. "Hey...you're awake right?" I ignore him, for I can only recognize his voice faintly. "Come on, I know you're faking." My breath starts getting calmer with every single bit of air I take in, and I start to really feel as if I were about to fall asleep. "That doesn't work, believe me, I've tried, they still noticed though." A sigh escapes my lips when I finally give up on pretending to be asleep and start getting up from the awkward position I was in, muscles feeling sore and my head spinning as if I had been drinking alcohol, or at least I guess that's how it would feel. "It's very creepy, isn't it?" I continue to ignore him and rub my temples as I take in my surroundings.

We're inside a room with white walls and ceiling, and there are no doors or windows. He's right, it is creepy and eerie, but it is somewhat calming at the same time until it finally sinks in. There are no windows. No doors. There's no exit. I start feeling claustrophobic as that reality dawns on me, and nervously I finally talk to him, to Peeta, who has traces of salt water in his cheeks due to crying, but his eyes only show indifference. I can't help but wonder for how long he's been awake already, but it must have been long enough to cry and get detached at the same time. "How are you..." I stop myself from asking, realizing I shouldn't be asking that, since after all, before all of this, I had never been in the same room as him other than in class, and even then, I didn't speak to him at all. However, for some reason, he seems to know what I wanted to ask.

"Dealing with it?" He pauses, letting the question in the air for some time. It's so silent I could swear I'm hearing rattling windows again, even though there are none. Several minutes go by, and I gulp, the silence becoming really awkward and unnerving. Silence is something the Capitol is an expert in, turning what could be a peaceful, quiet night into something terrifying, and a seemingly harmless, silent, white room into something right out of an unsettling nightmare, where there are no words to be spoken, and only an eerie silence to answer your pleas. And yet, the mere presence of a silent person is by far better than sitting alone in this room, where I would have likely lost it, since there would have been no one to hide my fear from. I have just finished becoming accustomed to the silence when he speaks again. "Fine, I guess, it's like it hasn't completely sunk in, you know?" I simply stare, afraid to say something out of place, and of the possibility of the conversation turning around to make me the subject of it. As he stares towards the ceiling, eyes far away from here, staring not truly at the ceiling but at something that is not really there, he speaks again. "I wonder how he must have felt."

I finally gather enough courage to talk again, and say, "He might not have suffered much... it was a clean shot." And truthfully, it had been clean, even if it had looked messy after his blood started pouring onto the concrete floor of the town square. "They could have... they could have shot him anywhere else." My gaze falls to the floor as my father's execution replays in my mind, every single detail coming back to life in my mind's eye. "They could have done much more to him than just shoot him." All the lashes, all the stabs, and then, finally, a cruel, slow, painful death due to all the injuries he received from them, hearing our cries, and the silence that came from the people of our district, who looked the other way, as if he was not human, as if we weren't there. I hope he understands what I'm about to say and what I mean by it. "He was... lucky."

Silence takes over and fills the room once again, making me feel regretful about my choice of words. The awkward silence finds its way to my very soul, slowly making me feel claustrophobic and enclosed, like a caged animal, even more so than what I felt back home. There, I was at least able to stand up and walk until a certain hour. I could watch where the sun was in the sky and know what time of day it was, I would see Prim when I got home, but now, neither of those could happen. If this was just the trip towards the Capitol, then, how will it be once we do get there? Will we have to face mutts? Or will there be thousands of peacekeepers watching our every move? What will be waiting there?

I catch myself starting to panic, and so I try my best to take in deep breaths, like my father always told me to when I felt like this, and oddly, once I start to calm down, my partner, Peeta, speaks again.

"I think I understand what you mean." How can he say that? A merchant... there are no executions there, they're much better off than any one from the Seam would ever hope to. "I once overheard my parents talking about a man that was fed to the mutts as a punishment for robbery." I remember that man. He was one of the many who bought meat from my dad. His name was Doug, I believe. He was a nice man who laughed, something rare in the Seam, and he was so kind... when my father died, he helped us out as much as he could until the day the Peacekeepers found him on our home, and threw him out. It had been the middle of the night. Even if there was no proof... everyone knew how and why he died. Mutts. Peacekeepers.

"I knew him." My gaze turns toward the floor for the nth time today. Or is it tonight? How long has it been since we left Twelve? I sigh dejectedly, relaxing my tense muscles. To my surprise, he looks sad now.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Don't worry... it was a long time ago." Four years ago, actually. I lay down in the hard, cold floor, simply staring into the white ceiling, slowly closing my eyelids to try and dream, if only for a small moment of peace that I know probably won't last long.

And, true to the unpredictable nature of the Capitol, it doesn't last long.

"Wha-? Did you hear that?" Peeta is still sitting, although he has now removed himself from the wall, his eyes wide and ears perked up. By then, I have already jolted back into a sitting position, trying my best to know from what direction the sound came from. It had been really loud, so it was either really close or incredibly strong. "Hey, you don't think-" I shush him to keep my full attention in the task at hand, while trying my best not to panic in this situation, only for my efforts to be in vain.

The train jolts as the same sound we just heard repeats itself, throwing both of us off balance and onto our backs. All of a sudden, the lights go off, and it is dark, just like when that syringe went through my arm at the reapings.

I can't see a thing, not even my hands when I hold them right in front of my face. _Or are they really there? _There is only darkness and silence in the room now. _Wasn't it that way to start with? _Clack. Clack. That sound... it's... familiar... _Oh Katniss, you should know better._ No. Please no. _You really should know better, dear._ That is the sound a mutt makes. The sound it makes when it is approaching its prey.

Could the Capitol really be doing this? Taking us from our homes... only to be fed to the mutts? Is this the fate all tributes share?

I try to feel my way around the room out of instinct, even if my more logical side asks me not to do so, to stay put so I don't turn their attention towards me. _They already know where you are, anyway. _It's pointless isn't it?

I gasp as the lights come on again, and I don't see Peeta. Where is he? I start to panic. _There are no exits from this room._ How could he have just disappeared like that?

I gag and cover my mouth in fear as I see it. A puddle of blood, just like the one that formed in the plaza when Peeta's brother was shot. Beside it... a hand, drenched in that same black liquid that came from the mutts. _Is that... Peeta's?_

No. Please. Now I'm all alone with mutts? I don't want to be alone in this situation! I turn around as the lights flicker and I see a shadow, my eyes wide with fear. What was that? I lose my footing as another shadow goes by, and the lights flicker once again.

Next thing I know, my back is now against one of the white walls, my knees up to my chin, with my hands holding my head. The lights still flicker, the shadows linger, that hand as well as the puddle of blood, haunting me. The lashes, the cries, all of them, playing over and over in my head, the sounds they make, all of it, all the things I've seen, all the things I've heard, weighing me down.

"Katniss! Hey, Katniss, what are you doing?" No, Peeta's not here. He's dead. I saw his hand there... without a body. He's not here anymore. _Was he even here in the first place?_

"Get away from me! You're not him. He's dead. I saw, I swear I saw."

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This has been chapter two, and I hope you enjoyed it, I'm sorry for the delay, but school is conspiring against me lately.


	3. Chapter 3

Vacations. Hate them, can't live without them, it seems.

On a completely different note, thanks for reviewing last chapter (**beanrocks, Ilovemycrazygoofyfriends**) and faving, watching, you know the drill. Not that I'm not thankful for the drill!

Now, to remember where I was going with this...let's reread the first two chapters...

Sorry if you get a bit confused here, but this'll be in Peeta's view, felt the necessity to show the other side of the madness going on.

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"Get away from me! You're not him. He's dead. I saw, I swear I saw."

But I'm not dead, I'm here Katniss! I'm right in front of you. I'm alive. Nothing happened. The light only went out. "Katniss..." I decide I'll have to shout and so take a deep breath. "Snap out of it Katniss. Nothing's wrong." I keep trying to get her attention, to make her stop saying that I'm dead, but I keep failing. After many more minutes go by, my patience starts to crack, and I shake her by the shoulders as I shout at her. "I'm. right. here!"

Katniss' eyes grow even wider, as if she had just seen a ghost. But I can't believe what I just did as I let go of her.

I just screamed at Katniss Everdeen.

Excuses come and go in my mind as I try to understand why I had done that, such a thing.

_She was getting annoying._ I lost it, it wasn't her fault. _Even those you put on a pedestal are cowards._ She's anything but a coward. A lawbreaker, yes, but never a coward. _Would that make her stupid, then?_ No! Of course not! _...Care to give an example?_ She hadn't been caught by the peacekeepers.

I don't say what she hadn't been caught doing though. This voice... where is it coming from? I'm getting fed up with all of these strange happenings. I want them to stop. I finally ask the voice a question.

Who are you?

_Me? Why, well, I am you._

It can't be... I would never think like that! _But of course you would. You just don't like to think you're me. _I-I'm not just a voice, I'm human! _Oh, but what would you say if I cut your tongue? You'd be a voice in your head just like me._

For some strange reason, I can imagine the voice smiling at me.

And then I feel it. I recognize the taste from one too many slaps by my mom.

Inside my mouth, the taste of blood runs rampant, but as I open my mouth and spit it out, I notice that there's nothing there. Absolutely nothing. Only the sensation you have whenever you're clumsy enough to bite your own tongue.

I run my tongue through my mouth, making sure it feels as I remember, and, true to form, it is exactly as I remember. It was all an illusion. I sigh with relief, glad that I'm not going crazy, that the voice I heard was not real.

Just as I was relaxing and beginning to approach Katniss to try and snap her out of it once again, I hear it again.

_Missed me?_

My eyes widen, surprised and scared at the same time. By then, I was a millimeter away from Katniss, and I stop myself from touching her shoulder. I think about what I should do, should I speak to the voice again? I decide not to.

As I make my final decision, I speak out loud. "No, I didn't miss you."

I poke Katniss' arm and say her name many times. I won't be rough with her this time; I'll wait until she overcomes whatever she saw. It must have been truly awful if it made even her, who I think has seen it all, despite the fact that she's my age, scream and shake like that.

It's then that I start waiting, and it's only after a while that I realize that the voice never answered. Feeling my eyes droop, I place myself close to Katniss, in case she needs anything later, while I'm asleep.

I barely feel a weight in my shoulder as I continue to sleep.

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I open my eyes to complete whiteness. Then I remember where I am, or to be fair, where I am not. I don't know where I am, but it's not home. That's more than enough.

Starting to move around a bit, I feel a weight fall onto my lap. As I my eyes find their way, I remember the events of a few hours ago (or at least, I'd like to think that it was hours, rather than days ago). And then there's Katniss. I have no idea how she ended there beside me though. She must have gotten closer while I slept.

I can't move though, so I just sit there, careful not to disturb Katniss' much needed rest as I watch her chest go up and down with each breath, making sure she's still here with me. Selfish, I am sure, is what I'm being as I caress her hair and remove it from her face. I would have never gotten this close to Katniss had it not been for the reapings.

But if it hadn't been for them, she wouldn't have reacted like she did.

I smile grimly as I come to terms with the fact that I lost any chance at telling her I love her when her name was called. When my own name was called... I don't really remember what I felt at the time, since it was quickly overshadowed because of what happened next, but looking back... I had felt lucky, lucky to be able to stand so close to Katniss. I had never truly believed I would be able to, I dreamt of it, but never acted on it, too scared of the what ifs.

Quite a tragedy the only 'what if' I never thought about came true.

I remove my hand from her head as she stirs, mumbling unintelligible things I will probably never know about. My smile grows warmer when I realize it's been quite a long time of calm after all that happened when we first woke up here. Maybe they're giving us a break.

Hopefully a really, really long one.

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I'm truly sorry for not updating this earlier, but as I wrote on the author's notes at the top, it was vacations; vacations are not good for procrastinators. D:

If Peeta was out of character, please tell me so I can, I don't know, write something centered on him so I can get his characterization right.

Forever procrastinating,  
>Fedora Wind<p> 


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